David Rossi's Christmas Surprise
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Based on Kavi Leighanna & Sienna27's December TV Prompt Challenge - The Twilight Zone - "What's in the Box?". David Rossi has always hated Christmas...until now?


**_Author's Note: Merry Christmas, zamboni12! I hope you like it!_**

**David Rossi's Christmas Surprise**

_**Prompt: The Twilight Zone – "What's in the Box?"**_

David Rossi hated Christmas and that hadn't been something he usually saw as a problem. Until now. In the past, he'd simply avoided the holiday hoopla by walling himself off inside his study with whatever the latest manuscript he was working on and his laptop for the thirty-one days it took to bypass the Christmas fanatics. It preserved his sanity, made his publishers happy and put a nice chunk of change into his bank account by Valentine's Day. But not this year. This year he couldn't beg, borrow or steal his way out of the so-called most wonderful time of the year. Because _she _loved it. And she'd decided months ago that he would, too.

Her insistence had only grown exponentially through the hectic Halloween celebration she'd staged for the children at the local community center where she volunteered. When she'd seen what little effect she'd had then, she'd re-doubled her efforts in November, bringing the team into her plans when she'd commandeered his house for a team themed Thanksgiving at Little Creek. Now, as he cracked his eyelids open on Christmas morning, the first thing he noticed was her absence in his bed. Twisting his head to gaze at her pillow, he found it dented, but cool to the touch. Wherever she was, she'd been up for a while.

Gazing toward the partially ajar bedroom door, his ears were met with the familiar chords of Silent Night rolling through the house. That woman never quit. Funny, when he'd began his romance with Emily Prentiss, he'd never taken her for a Christmas zealot. Man, had he been misled. Despite her cold, stilted upbringing, she still managed to be able to pull wonderful Christmas stories out of her ass. The carols, the stories, the shopping…she'd been slinging Christmas propaganda at him for close to three months. Hell, she'd even blackmailed him into signing his name beside her's on over a hundred of those holiday cards of hers. And he had an odd feeling that today would be a culmination of events. Hopefully, there'd be a healthy supply of that eggnog she'd made for the Christmas party. He definitely couldn't find fault with that eggnog.

Mentally groaning, he knew he couldn't stay in the nest of warm covers currently surrounding him forever. She'd only pull him out of bed at some point…and not gently, if he knew anything about the woman sharing his life at all. Shoving aside the bedspread, he decided to launch a preemptive strike. He remembered his admitted hesitance to rise on Thanksgiving morning too well. His face had met with a frigid glass of water at the hands of his particularly vindictive mate. That woman could be the image of sheer ruthless will when she wanted to be. And that will had been seen in spades that morning.

But not _this _morning. He wasn't going to give that dark haired vixen the opportunity to catch him off guard again. Stumbling sleepily into the bathroom, he took care of his business quickly, anxious to ascertain what holiday mischief she'd managed to concoct this Christmas morning. Pausing to splash his face with water, he blinked as he stared at his reflection in the mirror. Was that actually holiday excitement in his eyes? No, it couldn't be. It had to be a trick of the light. Grabbing a towel from the holder on the wall, he blotted his face, peering at himself again in the mirror. Nope, that light was still there. Had that tiny woman had so much influence on him that she might have actually changed his outlook on Christmas?

Grabbing his heavy robe off the back of the door, he shoved his arms inside the velour sleeves. Retracing his steps to the bedroom, he frowned as he opened his bedside drawer. For the first time in over twenty years, he'd actually bought someone a Christmas present. Oh, he'd given holiday gifts before with his name attached to them over the years. But, they'd been bought by assistants and publicists. _This_ he'd done himself…after careful deliberation and considerable planning. For her, for Emily, he'd broken his own rule. Because while he might have less than fuzzy feelings about the holiday season, she adored it and all its pomp and circumstance. Grudgingly he admitted to himself that love really could change a man.

Heading for the stairs, the Christmas music grew louder as he approached the kitchen. Halting in the doorway, his mouth dropped at the sight in front of him. Because unless his eyes deceived him, his own personal Santa was standing inside the room. And who knew Santa was a cross dresser? Now there was a juicy little tidbit Hallmark had never advertised.

"Merry Christmas!" Emily chirped, her Santa's beard tickling her nose as she spoke. "Ho! Ho! Ho!"

Eyes dancing with merriment, Dave choked, "Where's my phone? I knew there was a reason I asked Garcia to teach me how to take pictures with it! This was it! This is something I want preserved for all time."

Twirling in front of him, her Santa cap askew, Emily winked. "You like?"

Stepping into the warm, inviting kitchen, Dave nodded, his lips curved in a wide grin. "I love, Prentiss. I never realized exactly how far you'd go in your mission to find my holiday spirit, but I'd say this takes the cake," he laughed, draping his arms around her red padded hips.

Blowing the Santa beard from between her lips, Emily's sparkling eyes met his. "Nobody ever told me being a man was so hard…the facial hair alone is enough to drive someone nuts."

"Santa's never been introduced to a beard trimmer," Dave chuckled, pressing a kiss to her lips. "Good morning, Santa," he murmured against her lips.

Draping her arms around Dave's neck, her Santa suit rustling at the movement, Emily asked, "So Agent Rossi, have you been naughty or nice this year?"

"Well, that depends on the situation…I remember several times this year when Santa particularly enjoyed my naughty side, so I really don't think I should be penalized for those, do you?" Dave replied with a wicked smile. "In fact, I plan on being fairly naughty in just a few minutes…who knew that you in a man's jolly red suit could be such a turn on?"

"Questioning your sexual preferences at this late date, Rossi?" Emily asked playfully, raising a false white brow at him.

"Not hardly, cara," Dave grunted, tightening his arms around her ample form. Drawing back to stare into her soft brown eyes, he whispered, "I've got something for you."

Nodding, Emily replied, "Santa's got a surprise for you, too, but you go first. I had a busy night making all those deliveries. I deserve a reward."

"Ah, so that's your story, huh?" he asked, dropping his hand into the deep pocket of his robe. "It couldn't just be that you're curious what your lover has gone and done, could it?"

"Perhaps, it's a little of both." Holding out her gloved hands, she ordered, "Gimmee!"

"You are worse than a child on Christmas morning," Dave chuckled, dropping the box into her hands. Watching as she quickly ripped off the red paper, he smiled as her eyes widened as she viewed the contents of the box.

Lifting shocked eyes to his, Emily stuttered, "P-plane tickets to Naples, Italy?"

"You said you wanted to meet the rest of my family," Dave shrugged. "And after your Christmas escalation, I'm choosing to save the United States from your New Year's celebration. So, New Year's in Naples. I was imagining a gondola ride as the clock struck midnight. Watching the fireworks over the water. What do you think?" he asked hesitantly.

"I love it," she whispered. "I love you," she breathed, pressing her lips to his.

Exchanging a gentle kiss, Dave finally drew back. "So, Santa, can you top this?" he asked, nodding at the plane tickets she still held clutched between his fingers.

Swallowing, Emily tilted her head as she stared back at him. Reaching behind her to grab a small wrapped package off the granite kitchen counter, she handed it to him. "Why don't you tell me, Dave?"

Shaking the package lightly, he teased, "Is this one of those Mont Blanc pens that you insisted every talented author should have?"

"Not quite," Emily murmured as he began to slide off the paper.

Moments later, she stood stock still in the kitchen, her eyes focused on his paling face as the strains of O Holy Night filled the room.

Staring inside the long thin box, he lifted surprised eyes to hers, whispering, "Is this some kind of joke?"

Shaking her head, she managed one word. "No."

Staring down at the positive pregnancy test nestled in the black box, Dave swallowed thickly. "It's official then. My gift sucks compared to yours."

"You didn't know? Santa always gives the best gifts," Emily whispered shakily, her gaze meeting Dave's wet eyes.

Hauling her into his arms, Dave whispered, "She most certainly does. Thank you, Santa." Dropping his lips to hers he whispered, "Congratulations, Prentiss, you just singlehandedly changed one old man's Christmas prerogative. And I couldn't love you more for it."

_**FINIS**_


End file.
